


Half-Full Skepticism

by 200percent_inlove



Category: K-pop, Red Velvet (K-pop Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, And platonic Seuljoon, Awkward Romance, Crushes, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Love, Meet-Cute, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, The world needs more Seulmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 09:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17423342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/200percent_inlove/pseuds/200percent_inlove
Summary: Sometimes, Kim Nam-Joon contemplates whether he should put the two out of their misery and push their heads together in a forceful kiss.Friendship, awkward ‘some-ing’ AU.





	Half-Full Skepticism

**Author's Note:**

> Story time! 
> 
> Around seven years ago, I met a guy (Whom would inevitably become one of my good friends up to this day). He had a crush on a girl. Said girl posted on his Facebook, complimenting his badminton skills, and they awkwardly flirted for around 30 messages, ending with “You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met!” and “You’re the nicest girl I’ve ever met!” And even as a spectator whom didn't know the girl at all, I kinda knew that...something just had to be up. So, I – being nosy – confronted him about it. Guess what? HE WAS INTERESTED. But my goodness, he was so shy XD. I understood why though, it was his first relationship after all. But me being me, I really wanted to see him happy c: So, I sent him tons of BroTips (Do y’all remember those? LOL), gave him some advice (When in retrospect, I'm not qualified in the slightest) – and lo and behold, they started officially dating! I guess you could say they became the inspiration behind this story. :) 
> 
> While it's unfortunate they’re not together anymore, it’s nice to think back, and reminisce over how innocent, naïve and unaware we were about relationships. So, here's a homage to then! Hope you enjoy! c:

Kim Nam-Joon is an optimist.

He believes in the pot of gold on the other end of the rainbow; he’s a ‘half-full’-er (He’s aware the word doesn’t exist; Jung-Kook has pointed this out on more than one annoying occasion); his smiles radiate such infectious positivity that even his rather pessimistic best friend couldn’t evade in his foulest of moods.

So, he firmly believes that one day, Kang Seulgi and Park Jimin will eventually hold hands. Not as platonic friends, but adorable lovers that will make Nam-Joon crave a sickeningly sweet relationship.

One day, Park Jimin will walk Kang Seulgi back to her apartment complex after an eventful first date, and with fumbling fingers, ask mutedly if he can kiss her – to which, she’ll tap him on the forehead gently as a shy affirmation.

One day, Kang Seulgi will wake up at five o’clock in the morning to bake Park Jimin’s favourites (Blueberry muffins, chocolate chip cookies) for an early afternoon picnic in a beautiful park somewhere with sweetly scented cherry blossoms.

One day.

One day.

One day.

But honestly, even for the rather optimistic Kim Nam-Joon, his hopes of _‘Seulmin’_ continue to dwindle towards zero with each day that passes them by. And for good reason, too.

His phone is overloaded with screenshots of texts and Facebook messages; Seulgi personally requests that he keep them (For physical evidence, just in case). Nam-Joon often feels as if he’s committing a crime, the felony being ‘an accomplice in the theft of Jimin’s heart’.

(Her words, he clarifies shortly to Yoongi, not his.  Too flowery for his own taste.).  

He doesn’t want to hear any more tearful pleas for help from Jimin when he was reading his _manga_ in quiet cafes, because my God, his desperation distracted him from reaching the fifth chapter.

And he refuses to join them in group hangouts as an obnoxiously gangly third wheel, because when he witnesses the two nearly hold hands – yet somehow, _always_ seem to miss (Like, really now, are Jimin’s hands _really_ that sweaty?) – his lifespan shortens by a few more years and his heart clenches in pure agony like someone was plunging a stake into his heart.

Needless to say, Kim Nam-Joon can only maintain his half-fullness for them for so long.

And sometimes, he desperately contemplates whether he should just put the two out of their misery and mush their heads together into a forceful kiss.

* * *

  _(Park Jimin)_

Objectively speaking, Park Jimin's not much of a looker.

Small, crinkly eyes, pink and supple lips and ash brown hair that never wanted to stay flat, no matter how much hairspray or oil was forcefully administered. He wasn’t laid-back; he wasn’t ‘chill’ (A concept he was completely foreign to); he worked hard – to a degree – before procrastination caught up in the form of cat videos and relatable Facebook memes.

Clumsy and klutzy, but the boy huffily states that he can’t help the fact that he was born with two left feet. Often gullible and naïve, leaving him to be tortured by rather hilarious pranks from Kim Tae-Hyung.

Too excitable. 

Too overenthusiastic. 

Always a little bit ‘ _too_ ’ something. Like when a waiter begins grating Parmesan over a pasta plate, only for them to sprinkle it on excessively when you're a tad bit too late in telling them  _‘It’s too much’_.

Ah, and one more thing: Too much of a complete hopeless romantic, especially when it came to Kang Seulgi.

As a young boy, Nam-Joon childishly thought that he had seen all the stars in this universe combined with his telescope (Being the aspiring astronaut that he was back in the day). Such a statement is too presumptuous, he realizes once the two had become acquainted; after all, they had never seen the dazzling sparkle in Jimin’s dark brown eyes whenever he saw her in passing, whenever her name rolled off the tip of his tongue, whenever he decided to abruptly change the conversation to his wholesome narration of how they met.

But it was rather anticlimactic.  No fireworks, no flamboyant or memorable dramatics about it.

Because God forbid, that was the last thing his group of friends needed to hear before having dinner.

It was a simple meet-and-greet where the two sat at the same table during Nam-Joon's twenty-second birthday in early September.

Seulgi – a close friend that Nam-Joon met through his fashion and design elective – arrived late to the party, white t-shirt tucked into her boyfriend jeans with an effortless bun perched on top of her head, eyes glimmering excitedly with a gift bag in tow. He was in a particularly good mood, hugging her tightly before a bouncy and drunk Jimin joined him, and the two shook hands.

The start of their love story, Jimin likes to explain dreamily as the others recoil in disgust.

Everything that happened afterward ended up as a dark blur of a memory in Nam-Joon’s mind, but Jimin – well. His memory, shitty as it normally was, suddenly sprang into action.

“Gosh, she was _so_ pretty that night.”

“Was implies the past. She still is,” Tae-Hyung chimes in. “Because if you aren’t aware, Jiminie, we also yield things called ‘ _eyes_ ’.”

The main problem being, Tae-Hyung inevitably points out, that Jimin couldn’t keep his own pair off the young woman. 

With pleasantries exchanged, peach-flavored soju and grilled pork belly consumed, Seulgi eventually loosened up amongst the group of strangers. And Jimin behaves unmistakably different, almost (Dare Yoongi says this) gentleman-like. Of course, Seulgi would have no clue. She's just being her.

She laughs at a self-deprecating joke, Jimin laughs several pitches higher – even if he doesn’t understand the context behind it. She has trouble reaching for the pitcher of water, Jimin doesn’t hesitate a second to pour some more into her cup.  She laments over poor test results and embarrassing anecdotes of Nam-Joon falling asleep during lecture, Jimin concentrates solely on everything she says.

“In other words,” Seokjin mutters inaudibly. “You were being creepy.”

“I’d describe it as trying to make a good first impression.”

“Indeed, you did,” Yoongi mutters for the umpteenth time, exasperated and fatigued. “To the point that you ended up developing a full-fledged crush on her after you both got _so_ drunk and attempted to belt out an old Big Bang song and she drunkenly slapped you ‘cause you were hogging the microphone. I don’t even know what to call this – “

“Stockholm Syndrome,” Jung-Kook yells out unhelpfully.

“...Eh. Somewhat, but not quite. Anyway,” Yoongi sighs, rubbing his temples. “That’s not what we’re arguing here!”

“It’s a wholesome story,” Jimin repeats firmly.

“I digress. If you want to talk about wholesome,” Ho-Seok states. “Then let’s talk about _me_. I won’t get exhausted if I’m talking about myself.”

“Ho-Seokkie- _hyung_ , you think too highly of yourself.” Jung-Kook tuts.  

The only person who hadn’t contributed much to the now-heated discussion, Kim Nam-Joon, sits quietly in deep thought. Tired as he is of this story, he _does_ understand what Jimin is getting at. At least partially, anyway. It’s been quite some time since Jimin broke up with his ex, and while the younger man was adventurous enough to go on blind dates and speed dating events after recovering from heartbreak, it seemed impalpable that he would find someone new.

Yet, along came Kang Seulgi, in the most unexpected and surprising of times with Jimin falling faster than ever. As childish as their meet-cute story may sound, maybe this is also what Nam-Joon’s aging grandpa was talking about when love comes when you’re not forcefully seeking it.

“What are you smirking about, _hyung_?” Tae-Hyung asks curiously.

Five more pairs of eyes direct their attention towards him, but Nam-Joon only waves them off and says, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He’ll never admit his low-key enjoyment for it, though.

* * *

_(Kang Seulgi)_

Seulgi doesn’t fall for Jimin just yet.

She admits that the boy has certainly piqued her interest after that night with his high-pitched chortles, terrible drunk singing and the poorly-dyed gray cut on his head, but the thing is, she’s not the easily impressionable type.

Put it bluntly, she wasn’t going to fall head over heels _simply_ for his captivating physical charms. 

But the more her mind wandered away from the dreaded hexagons in organic chemistry and to Jimin during her boring, mundane lectures, the more she (Or, in this case, her _heart_?) seems to approve of the idea of being with a boy with half-moon eye smiles and a beautiful laugh that warmed her entire being better than _kimchi jigae_. 

And so, her personal investigation – for lack of a better word – begins. Slowly, but surely, she falls victim to the natural chemicals of hormones and serotonin.

Like when she starts to pull out her phone on occasion to marvel at his Instagram feed during her study breaks. She observes with curiosity that despite his outgoing, friendly demeanor, he seemed rather private online, making infrequent posts once or twice every few months.

Or, when she attempts to study, but amongst the numerous tabs (PubMed, YouTube and the works) that she has open on her browser, her cursor hovers dangerously close to his dumb Facebook.

Which, by the way, she _still_ hadn’t Friended. Two weeks since they met, and she either lacked the courage or feared rejection. Those are mutually inclusive, anyhow. So, when Joo-Hyun joins her an hour later to go over biology terms, she’s less than impressed to find Seulgi staring at Jimin’s blank page for five minutes.

“It’s not going to do you any good, honestly,” Joo-Hyun interrupts softly, and – much to no one’s astonishment – a reddening flush erupts on Seulgi’s cheeks like a splattered tomato.

It’s undeniable: Her heart was dancing playfully back and forth indecisively between indisputable attraction and fickle curiosity. All she needed left was a final push off that ledge.

So, sometime after their first meeting with the pressures of midterms looming overhead, Seulgi stupidly, finally (And bravely, because rejection is a terrible son of a bitch nowadays) initiates a group chat with Nam-Joon and Jimin together, inviting them out for…something. Anything, really – so long as Seulgi has another chance to see the intruder that had been occupying too much headspace recently.

Nam-Joon observes the real-time Facebook update log ( _‘Park Jimin and Kang Seulgi are now Friends’_ ) with quirked eyebrows, and even more so when the group chat head pops up. While he doesn’t mind spending time with his friends (He could make do with leisure while working on his thesis), he notes the peculiarity that Seulgi doesn’t acknowledge him first.

 _Kang Seulgi_  
_Hey Jimin! Long time no talk!_ _And Nam-Joonie too!_  

Jimin, on the other hand, responds with unperturbed enthusiasm when the bright red ‘1’ pops up in his Friend Requests. And there’s no misreading his cheeriness on his face when her photograph _pings_ on the side of his screen.

“S-she sent m-me a message?!”

The older man adjusts his eyeglasses before correcting sarcastically, “I, too, am part of this conversation. So technically, Chim, it’s us.”

The clarification goes in one ear, and out the other.

 _Kim Nam-Joon_  
_yo ddeulgi, sup?_

 _“_ Ddeulgi is such a cute nickname,” Jimin sighs, reading her next response. “Almost like, _ddalgi_? Strawberry?”

_Kang Seulgi  
Do you guys wanna hang?_

“That’s,” Nam-Joon deadpans. “Kind of the point.” He won’t mention that Seulgi earned her nickname when she stained her clothes in red when working with the textile dyes, and rather than making a theatrical spectacle about it, laughed it off wholeheartedly and self-deprecatingly called herself an inept designer. Everybody in the classroom loved how forthright and easygoing she was, hence, ‘ _Ddeulgi_ ’. 

“So cute.”

Really, is there anything that won’t classify as ‘cute’ when it comes to her?

 _Park Jimin_  
_Did you have a place in mind, Seulgi?_

 _Kang Seulgi_  
_Up to you, Jimin! ^^_

“ _H-hyung_ , what does the emoji mean?” The question dribbles out of Jimin in doubt.

To which Nam-Joon replies dully, “Absolutely nothing.”

While Jimin searches for options of dessert specialty restaurants around the area, Nam-Joon decides to take the opportunity to interrogate Seulgi’s sudden change in conduct privately.

 _Kim Nam-Joon_  
_I find it rather strange that you and Jiminie just became Facebook friends? I thought you were the type to “strike the iron while it’s hot”, as they say._

Her response is _deathly_ frightening.

 _Kang Seulgi_  
_Don’t insinuate shit._

The defensiveness in Seulgi’s online persona ends the conversation, and Nam-Joon – who had always harbored fear for the young woman’s fearsome side - doesn‘t say anything else.  For good measure, anyway. Instead, he turns his attention back to the group chat. Nam-Joon suggests grabbing some _patbingsu_ , but when he brings this up, Seulgi and Jimin immediately shut him down.

 _Park Jimin_  
_Hyung, seriously?  In this weather? You’re going to get sick!_

“I’m literally sitting next to you. You could tell me that.”

“It’s more fun teaming up with Ddeulgi to bully you.”

 _Kang Seulgi_  
_We could get bubble tea, though! Any season is bubble tea season!_

 _Park Jimin_  
_Ooh, good idea!_

“Of course, you’re going to agree.” Nam-Joon’s voice is as lifeless and dry as a parched flower wilting away in the Summer heat; there’s no point in answering them. Why did he bother wasting his energy in responding, anyway?

 _Kang Seulgi_  
_Great minds think alike, don’t they? ^^_

“Seulgi is so smart.”

“Like you?”

“ _Exactly_.”

By this point in time, Nam-Joon already an inkling of an idea as to what motivated Seulgi to ask the two of them to hang out, but it’s too early. Much too early to be making assumptions. He needs to see this for himself.

The day of, she’s wearing an oversized dress shirt, tucked this time into a skater skirt with her brown hair let down. Jimin clutches onto Nam-Joon’s wrist, whispering inaudibly, “Oh, my God. She looks so good.”

“I think it’s ‘cause you’re not drunk and under the influence of alcohol.”

Seulgi catches sight of them, and Nam-Joon notes how her eyes are glistening brighter than usual. Jimin has one hand in his pocket, one scratching the back of his head with a crooked smirk gracing his lips. “Hey there.”

“Hi to you, too,” She replies, her body unconsciously mimicking his. Nam-Joon stifles a chuckle as the suspicion disappears and is replaced with confirmation; psychology _finally_ had its uses, although he really doesn’t like being outed as the obvious third wheel. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

The trio makes their way up to a deserted Gong Cha – Seulgi right smack in the middle, Nam-Joon to her right and Jimin on her left. The older man deliberately slows his steps a smidge, watching with interest as Jimin’s dangling hand – not once, not twice, but _thrice_ – bumps into Seulgi’s. Bold move. And with every single touch, Seulgi seems to almost always trip on invisible obstructions.

It’s unbelievable how crushes can manipulate people into doing things completely out of the norm.

Jimin insists on paying, but Seulgi brushes his offer aside by pulling her own wallet out of her bag. “I still need to treat you for accidentally thwacking you in the face that night!”

“Ahem. I’m here, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get one also,” Seulgi said snidely, hurrying to the counter. “I don’t play favourites.”

“There’s our Ddeulgi,” Nam-Joon comments. “Charming as always.”

“She is, isn’t she? So, what do you think?” Jimin asks suddenly in a hushed, excited tone. “You think she might be interested?”

“I don’t know, Chim. What do _you_ think?”

Before Jimin has a chance to reply, Seulgi returns to their table with three purple straws, her receipt, and the buzzer. “Jiminie, you like mango green tea with lychee jelly, right?”

“That’s exactly right! How’d you know?”

“Eh, lucky guess, I suppose.” Lies:  She asked Nam-Joon the night before.

“You got mine, right?”

“Brown sugar-infused milk tea with pearls. I got you.”  

Jimin leaves his seat to use the washroom, and while Nam-Joon sips his drink, Seulgi clears her throat, saying matter-of-factly, “Y’know, Joon. Jimin’s actually quite captivating.”

Nam-Joon nods, inattentive. “Mmhmm.” Then, it hits him like a tornado. “Wait? _Captivating_?” 

“What?!” She retorts, peeking at the closed door to make sure Jimin was still occupied. “He’s handsome!”

“Captivating, handsome and Jimin are three words that shouldn’t be found in the same sentence, but okay. You do you, sis,” He shrugs casually. “Since you’re the one that has a crush on him – **_OW_**.”

“Not so loud!” Seulgi hisses with a painful smack of the arm then returns her voice to a low whisper. “How’d you figure it out, anyway?”

“It’s rather noticeable, Ddeulgi. I’m just surprised Chim didn’t pick up on it.”

“Well, I mean, now that you know. Um, can you – ?”

As the one with the highest IQ and (Presumably, EQ), Nam-Joon sighs half-heartedly and finishes her request for her. “...I knew your bubble tea outing was too good to be true. Alright, Seul. I’m doing this just for you, so be grateful we’re friends and I’m nice enough. What would you like me to do about it?”

And it was on this day, the twenty-ninth of September, that Nam-Joon officially signed his emotional death warrant and sealed his position as the Seulmin matchmaker.

* * *

( _Park Jimin)_

“Jimin- _ah_ , happy birthday!”

Miraculously, Park Jimin has survived in this vicious world for twenty-one years.  And while Nam-Joon may never have a heart-to-heart with the younger man until _much later_ , he hopes that the hug he enveloped him in would transmit the message that he appreciated their lighthearted friendship much more than he thought.

While they were planning on celebrating as a large group together later that night at a Korean barbeque restaurant, Nam-Joon suggested purchasing a cake from the bakery a block away from the university and would then text Seulgi to join them in the cafeteria. Jimin’s face shoots up from the present they bought him (A pair of mint condition AirPods), stammering, “W-what?”

“Well, we all know that’s what you want, right?” Tae-Hyung asks with a chuckle, ruffling Jimin’s hair.

Within twenty minutes, Tae-Hyung was on his way to pick up an eight-inch chocolate mousse, and Seulgi was seated comfortably, squashed between a brooding Yoongi and an elated Jimin, chatting away as if they were all old friends picking up a conversation from years ago.       

With the weather turning cold, Seulgi’s bundled up with a brown muffler and an all-black outfit: Cozy, comfortable and warm, but the smile on her face was warmer.

Warm enough to melt even Yoongi’s cold, hard exterior.

“So, Yoongi- _sshi_!” Seulgi directs her attention to the lax man beside her. At the sound of his name being called so unexpectedly, his elbow slips off the table in shock. “I hear that you’re majoring in music composition?”

“Um, yeah.” Nam-Joon watches in bewilderment; he has never seen Yoongi’s cheeks turn so crimson, but then again, anytime somebody mentioned his achievements in music production – scholarship upon scholarship and opportunities to work with renowned composers in Seoul – the older, stoic man often tries to play it off as if it were no big deal. “But they’re just demos.”

“Still,” She says earnestly. “You must be a very creative individual. If we become close, I’d like to hear some of them if you’ll let me.”

Friendly enough for Jung-Kook to find the courage to address her by ‘ _noona_ ’ instead of an overly formal ‘ _sshi_ ’.

“Seulgi- _sshi_ – “

“I’d like to get closer to you, Jung-Kookie,”  She laughs, helping Jimin divide the cake into eight equal pieces. “Go ahead and call me _noona_!”

Jung-Kook drops the plastic fork that he was holding in his hand. Shakily picking it up from the floor, he clears his throat and says, “U-um, alright, then! Seulgi- _noona_?”

“Here’s a new fork.” She passes a clean utensil to him. “Don’t use that one, it’s dirty!”

Outgoing enough so that Ho-Seok and Tae-Hyung could be their usual boisterous selves without feeling judged that they were too _‘out there’_ , yet easygoing enough for Seokjin to continue making dad jokes regarding chocolate cake, even if they _were_ horrible.

“So, once,” Seokjin begins, and almost automatically, Seulgi turns her attention to the groaning around her. “I was at the bakery with my dad, right.”

“Oh no,” Yoongi presses a finger against his forehead. “Here we go.”

Jung-Kook slaps the older man’s broad shoulder. “ _Hyung_ , you’re the worst.”

“Don’t listen to them, Seokjin- _sshi_ ,” Seulgi encourages with an amused grin. “I’d gladly listen to your puns. Trust me, ladies like ‘em if you can execute them properly.” Jimin didn’t like it much that his _hyung_   was capable of making her laugh so hard to the point that she shot chocolate out of her nose, but the others were thoroughly entertained by the seemingly demure young woman. 

And by the end of their short party, they all agreed on two things.

One, they _liked_ Kang Seulgi. Not only was she easy on the eyes, but she also had a wonderful personality to boot. Jeez, talk about perfection.

“Thanks for inviting me!” Seulgi says, glancing at her wristwatch. “But unfortunately, I have to get to class now.”

“Do you want us to save you an extra slice? We have extras, and I can drop it off for you if you want!” Tae-Hyung suggests, but she shakes her head.

“No, no, you guys should have the rest. But, um, here, Jimin- _ah_.” Reaching into her bag, she pulls out a plastic bag of _matcha_ -flavoured mochi tied with a gold ribbon. Attached was a tiny periwinkle-blue card, written in the neatest writing that made Jung-Kook feel ashamed at his own messy scribbles. “I actually found out it was your birthday from Facebook, so forgive me if this is a little um, creepy. Happy birthday again! I made these myself!”

And two, they finally understood _why_ Jimin fell head over heels for her.

Watching Seulgi’s retreating backside scurry away, Seokjin finally admits, “As much as I don’t like Chim’s side of the story, I have to say, I quite like Seulgi.”

“Me too.”

“Same.”

“Okay, yeah, Seulgi- _noona_ is wonderful and all but are her other friends single?”

Noticing the other men sending haphazard glares at him (Jimin in particular), Jung-Kook sends them an equally terrifying glaze back, retorting, “What?! I know you guys are curious, too!”

* * *

  _(Kang Seulgi)_

Nam-Joon receives a rather frantic phone call from Seulgi about a month later. He picks up tentatively – knowing full well that his mother would’ve had a fit if she caught him lollygagging instead of setting the table for dinner, but he does, anyway. Stepping out onto their porch, he swipes the screen and holds the phone to his ear.

Her heavy breathing from the other end of the receiver makes him wonder if she had suddenly stepped into her running shoes for a ten-mile jog.

“Did you just go running?” Nam-Joon’s curiosity gets the best of him.

“N-no, w-why?” There’s a strange, high-pitched hush to her voice that captures his attention. As if, she had witnessed some rather unholy event so traumatizing that she couldn’t speak of.  Weirdly specific, he knows, but consider that the influence from too many mystery novels recently.

Instead, he comments bluntly, “You sound…breathless. Like you’re sick or something.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay, then.” Aside from the grasshoppers chirping in the distance, he’s met with silence. She’s no longer heaving desperately for air. Seating himself comfortably on the step ladder, he asks, “So, uh, what’s up?”

“Can we go shopping?”

“Where? _Myeong-Dong_?” Nam-Joon doesn’t mind. “Sure thing. I could make do with a new pair of – “

“No,” She interrupts. “COEX.”

A chuckle erupts on his end, statically reaching Seulgi’s ear in what she mistook as a rasp. “A bit ambitious to be spending part-time salaries on expensive clothing, don’t you think?”

“I’m fine with it.”

“If you say so. Why me, by the way?”

“You’ll see.”

Uh-oh. Nam-Joon doesn’t think it’s the sudden chill that made his spine tremble in fear. He’s learned from the stack of James Patterson sitting on his desk: ‘ _You’ll see_ ’ was foreshadowing of something – often, but not always – terrible.  

“I feel like there has to be a catch to this.”

“Joon, don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow at one.”

He agrees unenthusiastically, because he can’t help but worry.

Nam-Joon saunters into the gigantic mall the day after, hands trapped deep within his coat pockets. “I still feel,” He says when Seulgi catches sight of him and runs over, linking her arm with his. “That you took me here for some unknown purpose.”

“No catch,” She shrugs, dragging him towards the escalator with her hold. “I just wanted to spend some money.”

“Didn’t you spend enough for Soo-Youngie's birthday present like a little while ago?” Nam-Joon’s eyes reluctantly peel away from the video game store as they continue forward.

“Ooh, you remembered her birthday? I’m impressed,” Smirking at his reddening ears, she asks, “Are you interested? I can set you up. She’s single right now, and certainly looking to mingle.”

“Y - um, no.”

“Y’sure?”

“Where are you taking me, any – ?”

_No. No._

Their footsteps slow to a halt in front of the bright-pink storefront with VICTORIA’S SECRET stamped across in its recognizable font; on either side of the entrance was a large poster-sized picture of Adriana Lima, smiling beautifully while wearing a mahogany-coloured babydoll.

_No. No. No. **NO**._

“Joon – “

He puts up a great fight when wrenching his arm out of her grasp. Steaming red and hot and completely useless in his struggle against her Herculean strength, he snarls as viciously as a raging cat, “You did not tell me that you were going to purchase lingerie. I feel used.”

“C’mon! Ten minutes!” She pleas, voice wheedling. A helpful sales attendant hands her a black shopping bag with a smile. “I just need ten minutes of your time!”

Nam-Joon’s so flustered to the point that he couldn’t even look at anybody in the eye. “I’m sorry. But, why are we here again?”

Seulgi either feigns ignorance and pretends not to hear him or the rhythmic bass instrumental they had in the background muted her hearing ability altogether. She holds up a piece of shimmery black fabric that looked five times too small and would never be able to contain anything.

“What do you think?”

“Why are you asking me?!” The air is too suffocating, to the point that he feels like choking to death. His legs are trembling, he has beads of sweat dotting his fringe and he knows all the patrons of the store are staring at him curiously. “I don’t wear these!”

“…”

“And I’m NOT your boyfriend! Can you please stop waving those panties in front of me?” Spinning around blindly, he storms off in search of some more innocent attire.

Only to collide face first into a rather realistic mannequin modeling a pair of violet-coloured lace panties where a significant portion of the fabric was cut away, intentionally done to reveal a small section of the buttocks, as well as a leopard-patterned push-up bra.

It didn’t matter if the model was plastic. It was still a rather shapely and toned body. “ ** _ARGH_**! WHY ME?!”

Seulgi’s voice suddenly resounds behind him, and he whirls around, sending her the strongest stink-eye that he could muster. “Oh, that’s pretty! Good taste, Joon!”

“Yes, yes, of course, it’s pretty,” He spits furiously, glancing at her bag that was _somehow_ filled with items already.

“I picked up some things that I saw on the website. I’d like your opinion – “

He couldn’t take it anymore.  “Just send it to Jimin, for the love of all things holy!” The younger man’s name works like a charm:  Seulgi turns uncomfortable, playing with her fingers as Nam-Joon scrutinizes her skeptically.

“What’s with you?!”

She only mumbles something that was completely inaudible to his ears.

“Come again?”

“That’s why I needed your assistance.”

_Oh, God. This can’t be happening to me. Me, of all people._

Taking in Nam-Joon’s confused expression, she explains as if this should be second nature to him, “I overheard Kookie and him talking about sex – “

“ ** _WHY_** is Jung-Kook knowledgeable in that type of stuff?!”

“And, that lead onto discussing the type of pornography that they were into.”

“…Oh my – “

“So, I decided to do some research and –”

Nam-Joon admits that he’s rather slow on the uptake at times, but it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. “I-is that why you sounded so – “

“...” He takes her silence as a confirmation, and he suddenly feels his body tire.

“God. Who did you even _watch_?”

Before he could tell her to _NOT_ answer him, she says with a pout, “Um, I forget her name, but she had rather large breasts and squeaked out moans. Her body was amazing, but the acting? God-awful.” How can she say things like this without a single care in the world? How does her mind work?!

On the other hand, his head grows faint and his thoughts turn lustfully dirty. He’s certain if he probed some more, he would’ve been able to pinpoint who exactly the AV actress she was referring to. An ample bosom, huh? It was probably Yua –

No. No, no, no, he won’t do that. Because he’s not dirty.

_(At least, that’s what he struggles to keep telling himself.)_

“Why are you so pink in the face? I thought…I mean, don’t guys talk about these things?”

“Well, no. They don’t! More importantly, **_Jimin and I_** don’t!” Nam-Joon snaps after Seulgi’s question interrupts his train of perverted thoughts, his face burning furiously from the sensitive topic at hand. “Please don’t ever ask this again. If you ever date Jimin, please, oh **_PLEASE_** , just ask him yourself.”

Just before he storms out with a _semblance_ of dignity left, he snatches the lacy black bra from Seulgi’s hands and tosses it into a nearby hamper roughly. The pretty sales attendant at the counter looks offended that he’s treating ladies’ undergarments so roughly; Nam-Joon feels offended _she’s_ offended.

“He also does **_not_** like black!”

“So, which col – “

“RED! _RED_! **_RED!  FIRE ENGINE TRUCK RED!_** ” is the last thing she hears him holler before escaping into the haven known as the food court.

Almost an hour later, Seulgi receives a text message from him, asking her to reconcile once she was finished her shopping. She isn’t shocked in the slightest to find him stuffing his face with Churros five floors above.

“You still waited for me?” She asks, gazing in admiration at the number of soiled food wrappers that lay around his table:  Looks like a box of six chicken nuggets, a medium fry, three Churros sticks and a slice of pizza. Victoria’s Secret must’ve really worked up an appetite.

“What kind of friend would I be if I abandoned you like that?” Nam-Joon discards the garbage away before stalking away haughtily towards the descending escalator. Normally, he would’ve taken her stuff – but today, he simply can’t bring himself to do it. He’s only twenty-two, okay? Young and dumb and unaware. Cut him some slack. “C’mon. We’re leaving.”

“I bought some nice stuff.” Seulgi holds up the bulging bag in her hand, and he’s _this_ close to abandoning her to take the subway alone.

Groaning inwardly, he mumbles, “Kang Seulgi. Shut up and don’t show me.”

“Well now,” She snaps. “For someone who released a crappy mixtape and a terrible song about beating that pus – _OW,_ _NAM-JOON-AH_! Don’t – hit me, dumbass!”

“ ** _OW_** , don’t hit me back, then!”

* * *

  _(Park Jimin)_

Jimin has this annoying habit of multitasking – listening to raunchy hip-hop and bobbing his head while pouring over Calculus. Or, sneaking Pringles into his bag and munching on them rudely, with the aging vulture of a librarian casting dark glares at their table. Nam-Joon ends up figuring out the flavoured chips weren’t for himself, but for Seulgi whenever she texted that she was free – endearing, but a bother, nonetheless. His unorthodox habits drive Nam-Joon absolutely nuts that he sometimes has to leave altogether.

On the other hand, studying with Seulgi is a rather enjoyable affair. She asks smart, inquisitive questions and does her work without having to be reminded twice unlike a certain someone. And while she does like to put second-generation K-Pop on while working through her biology lab, her iTunes is filled with Big Bang, 2NE1, TVXQ and Brown Eyed Girls. She certainly has good taste in music.

Combine them together in one study session, and Nam-Joon finds that there’s a type of _je ne sais quoi_ he enjoys about it. Perhaps the stilted inelegance when Jimin announces that he needs to use the bathroom, the suspicious gaze that Seulgi bores into his retreating back and the lovingly awkward way that their hands recoil when their fingers reach for the same potato chip.

Somehow, they balance each other out. Maybe Seulmin isn’t as far-fetched of an idea as he originally thought.

Today, Seulgi sits on the opposite side of Jimin, her warm brown orbs shifting fleetingly from her screen to the dumb object of her affections. How does Jimin not _see_ that she’s checking him out? Is he that oblivious, or is her flirting game simply too weak?

Rather than searching for playlists, Jimin is cackling like a deranged mad man over...something. Whatever it is, Nam-Joon doesn’t know. The younger man’s been keeping his laptop secretive to the visible eye.

“ _Hyung_?” Jimin finally removes his headphones after a few minutes, and the older man acknowledges him with a, “Hmm?”

“I love Rachel.”

Well, _that_ was unexpected. Nam-Joon’s eyes crinkle amusedly when Seulgi unmistakably chokes on her tuna rice ball. He doesn’t know whether to laugh, or console her in private that her feelings were officially declared unrequited. Although, how fickle could Jimin’s heart be? Questioning was in order.

“Now, who is this Rachel that you’re referring to, hmm?”

Jimin turns the laptop towards them, and Nam-Joon can sense the anxiety escape Seulgi’s body. “Rachel from Friends!” They weren’t full episodes. Rather, he was watching compilations of their funniest moments. Arguably, Chandler was the best, but that’s irrelevant.

“Is this for your English lecture?”

“Sorta,” Jimin has a sheepish grin on his face. “But look, _hyung_. Rachel’s gorgeous!” He’s right. Not to say that Jennifer Aniston was by any means unattractive, but her stint on Friends was probably that faithful moment when Nam-Joon developed his first celebrity crush. The long-blonde hair, her turquoise-blue eyes. The dated fashion that she pulled off and was now making a comeback. He’s not surprised Jimin would like her too.

“I think Jennifer Aniston and her amazing acting is what you’re attracted to,” Seulgi cuts in, doing her best to not appear miffed. “Rachel Green simply doesn’t seem like your ideal type in reality. She's superficial, completely dependent on people _until_ she had to learn about the hardships of parenthood and wants the world – especially Ross – to revolve around her.”

Incredible. Was this the first sign of jealousy, pointing out his favourite character’s flaws?

“Just a role, Seulgi, not somebody you actually know in real life,” He kindly reminds her, to which she responds with a blush. “But, good timing. This begs the question of, what _exactly_ is your ideal type, Jiminie?”

A complete lie. He knew. Jimin mentioned this _all the dang time_. But Seulgi didn’t. And really, she ought to know this crucial piece of information.

Jimin spits out his ideal traits with rapid-fire delivery. “I like petite girls! I just think they’re so cute how they get swallowed up in oversized hoodies.” Seulgi’s creating a mental checklist in her mind as he says this, making sure to purchase some more counterfeit Supreme. But, she doesn’t have to worry – with how often he talks about her impeccable fashion sense. “Girls whom are smart, cute and kind-hearted with a good personality. Someone whom I can depend on, and she knows that she can also depend on me.”

It impresses Seulgi that Jimin didn’t seem superficial at all, but she asks meekly, “So, physical attraction isn’t important?”

It is, Jimin agrees. “But, looks eventually fade with time. Besides, look at me. What good will long legs do for me? She’ll be halfway up the block before I can catch up!”

Seulgi laughs, the apples of her cheeks a rosy pink. He, too, chuckles to himself. Nam-Joon is figuratively _and_ literally dying.

“I won’t say no to purplish-gray hair, though. Or maybe blonde ombre, too.”

Seulgi has played it safe for most of her life when it came to hairstyles. She was born with that black tuft on her head, letting it grow thick and luscious to her chest and maintaining it there ever since. Occasionally, she might follow a random trend popping off magazine spreads, like the choppy bangs that she so desperately wished to grow back and the muted hazelnut-brown that she grew to love and was now starting to fade. 

But...lavender? Blonde ombre? What the hell was ombre, even?

“F-funny you mention!” She squeaks suddenly. Nam-Joon snorts under his breath; if Jimin fell for shitty acting like that, he’s just going to laugh. “I - um, I actually was contemplating changing my hairstyle!”

“W-what?! W-why?” Jimin stammers in a state of sheer panic.

“W-well, I want a new change!”

_New change, my ass.  Damnit! Now I’m really craving some popcorn._

“But, Seulgi- _yah_ ,” Jimin says kindly. “I quite like you with brown hair! It suits you and makes you look warm, motherly and stylish altogether!”

_He just implied that she’ll make a fashionable and chic soccer mom. My God._

Seulgi ends up floating away on cloud nine for the rest of the afternoon with a pinky-promise that she will keep her hair away from the bleach (What were they, schoolchildren?!), but when she whisks away to class dreamily leaving the two men alone, an exasperated Nam-Joon shoots daggers into the youngers’ puppy-dog gaze.

“You should’ve just said ‘ _I quite like you_ ’ and that would’ve ended this.”

“ _Hyung_ , I like her hair – “ And Jimin’s _still_ trying to deny this? Pathetic wimp.

As much as Nam-Joon doesn’t want to say it, it has to be said. Slamming his textbook shut, he cuts in sharply with all patience lost, “No, Chim. You don’t just like her hair, and don’t you dare say ‘just her nose’, or ‘the shape of her neck’, or some ridiculous bullshit that you’re spouting out of your ass. You like all of _her_. Don’t try to fight me.” He cautions with a warning finger, and Jimin’s mouth is wide and agape at the older man’s pent-up frustrations. “Look, if you want someone, you need to take the initiative and just. **_Do._** It. Put us out of our miseries, for the love of God.”

It takes a few long and drawn out moments, but eventually, Jimin nods his head vigorously with newfound determination. “O-okay. I’ll do it!”

The world _must_ be coming to an end. Either that, or Nam-Joon really needs to start turning down the volume of his music.

“Wait, **_what_**?”

* * *

  _(Kang Seulgi)_

He never does it.

Seulgi’s knuckles are chalk-white from squeezing the life out of her fists in ugly jealousy.

And Nam-Joon is so close to exploding. Or, if spontaneous combustion wasn’t possible, then the sudden urge to move to the United Kingdom for the rest of his life.

As a traditional dance major, one of Jimin’s course requirements was to put on dance performances throughout the semester. While some things he claims he has expertise in is debatable (Math, balancing equations, molecular biology and memorizing signalling pathways), everyone within their group couldn’t deny that Jimin was incredibly talented for his age, especially having studied under the tutelage of a rather famous choreographer when he was only a middle school student.

The plus side meant that they all received free tickets to see him – Seulgi included, and gosh was she more than thrilled. More so than a young girl receiving a pony as a birthday gift.

She looks more formal than usual in a blue-striped dress shirt and dark-green calf-length skirt. A smart-looking Jung-Kook and Tae-Hyung exchange an energetic high-five with her when she walks into the crowded lobby; Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin following suit with welcoming hugs and bashful waves. Clearly, she’s established a position within the septet.

“Did you get these for Jimin?” Nam-Joon asks as they make themselves comfortable in the auditorium with Seulgi sitting beside him.  He gestures towards the vibrant bouquet, mixed with a dash of reds, sprigs of blues and whites.

“Mmhmm. I tried asking him what kind of flowers he likes, but he left me on read yesterday.”

“He’s always like that before a big performance,” He reassures her quietly as the curtain opens and the lights dim. “He doesn’t like to get distracted, so it’s nothing to worry about.”  

Nam-Joon has watched Jimin perform countless times, but with every performance, there’s just something about the fluidity of his movements and his exuding charisma that captures his undivided attention.  How much Jimin loved dance was comparable to how much Yoongi took pleasure composing, and it reflects through his expressive, almost flawless movements. Suffice to say, the young man is a force to be reckoned with on stage, practically flying, spinning, twisting and turning into mesmerizing poses for split seconds before continuing the complex choreography.

As for Seulgi, she watches with intrigue. Jimin has talked much about his program at school, but to see this displayed in front of her very eyes was magically enchanting. Not that she would be attracted to him any less if she didn’t get a chance to experience this, but – 

Her train of thought is suddenly cut off when she notices a slender figure emerge from the sidelines, and onto the main stage. Nam-Joon feels her vice-like grip dig into his wrist painfully. “Joon. Who’s that?”

“Huh?”

And it was here where her eyes widen in horror at Jimin lifting his female partner into the air for a few moments before releasing his touch, cradling the ethereal-looking girl into an intimate embrace.

And of course, Nam-Joon had to suffer the inevitable ramifications.

“Seulgi, jealousy ain’t cute in a relationship,” He sighs, rubbing her back soothingly as the spectators leave the auditorium and wait in the lobby for the dancers. Sensing alarm bells ringing, a walking and talking time bomb waiting to explode and the smoke of envy thick through the air, the remaining five retreats, promising to text later (Really, they just wanted the full details). “You _need_ to get that ingrained in your brain.”

Her eyes narrow sharply at the taller man, snarling, “Who said I was jealous?”

“I mean,” He glances at the bottom half of her outfit. “Look at your skirt.”

“ _Joon_ – “

“Look, jokes aside, all I’m saying is that Chim’s a professional dancer, and that any touching, hugging or holding were exclusively for the performance only. Look over there for a second, Seul.” Reluctantly, she turns her attention towards the beautifully elegant Mina, chatting animatedly with a lanky, handsome man who then – to her utmost surprise – _kissed_ her on the forehead.

“That’s her – “

“Boyfriend, yes.” Nam-Joon explains. “Because FYI, Seul, when you’re a dancer, it’s inevitable that you will have to partner up with somebody who isn’t your significant other. If these two got through it for two years, why can’t you?” 

“Oh. Um.” In retrospect, she knows he’s right. And while she does want to argue that her situation was different from the graceful and dignified ballerina, she knows that her tiny temper tantrum is indefensible. “Alright, then.” 

“ _Y-yah_ , you can’t just end this conversation with that. _Yah_ , Kang Seulgi, don’t just – are you _listening_ to me?!”

“Just a second! Jimin- _ah!”_ She waves towards him once she catches sight of his all-black attire, and reflexively, he returns her enthusiasm with a great sprint – just like how a chubby toddler would dangerously chase down an ice-cream truck. “You did well! Congratulations!”

“Ddeulgi!” 

Jimin has his arms open and – for the first time – embraces the thin girl. Oh, my God. Milestone unlocked. Nam-Joon's a bit too slow this time around, but otherwise, he would’ve snapped a photo for their group’s collection.

“Thank-you for coming!” He says, retreating quickly with undeniably rosy cheeks. “Did you like the show?”

“I did!” Seulgi replies, scrunching onto the stems a little too hard when she says so. Well, Nam-Joon scoffs, at least it shows her honesty.

“Flowers need to be handled gently,” He advises, tapping her on the head. “Otherwise, you’ll be arrested for plant murder.”

“O-oh, right. Um, anyway, these are for you! I really, _really_ hope you like them.” Presenting the bouquet to him, Seulgi beams at him proudly like a mother would to her child.

(Wait, hold that thought. Forget that analogy. That’s just absurd on _so_ many levels.)

Jimin remains abnormally silent for a few minutes, staring (Rather creepily, mind you) at the petals before returning Seulgi’s worrisome expression with a brilliant grin of his own.

“Can you teach me how to press them dry? I’d like to keep them as bookmarks.”

That settles it:  Nam-Joon _really_ wants to die right now (In a good way) with how painfully his heartstrings were tugging.

Although, when was the last time Jimin ever actually _picked up a book_?  

* * *

  _(Park Jimin)_

Skating is just one of those must-do activities during the Christmas season – either with a group of friends or with a significant other. And in this instance, it was about a week after final exams and Jimin sends Nam-Joon several text messages.

The first, to build up rapport:  _How are you doing? Did your exams go okay?_

The second, to establish the true motive behind his actions:  _So, um, Seulgi wants to go skating._

The third, to ask (Or, in this case, beg):  _Can you please come with me?_  

The older man is displeased, so he decides to give Jimin a piece of his mind. Seulmin is _this_ close to driving him to insanity, so why not? It’s justified! “God. _Why_ do you want me to come skating as well?”

“Well – “

“Oh, I know why!” Nam-Joon doesn’t plan on sugar-coating anything during the phone call. His tone is bitterly angry as he continues, “I know your plan, Chim. You want me to flail stupidly on the ice so that you, Mr. Scott Moir-wannabe, can impress Seulgi with your figure skating skills.”

“…”

“Got nothing to say, huh?”

“I’ll buy you a hot chocolate.” In other words, Nam-Joon took the words out of his mouth completely and was seriously thinking a sweet beverage would be enough to persuade him.

Nam-Joon pauses for a few moments before shutting his phone off, “Make that three and you’ve got a deal.”

So, here he is, not really having fun. He’s freezing his ass off in minus five weather, forgot his gloves, dressed for fashion and less so for warmth, and is holding onto a training chair while slowly gliding across the ice, biting his tongue to keep from screeching like a hyena. The other pain-in-the-ass kids are clearly mocking him with their scornful sneers, and while he knows he should be the more mature one in the matter, he can’t help but smirk in delight when a cocky ten-year-old collides with a pimply middle school student, both falling face first into the ice.

At least he’s starting to get the hang of it, and his knees were no longer buckling uncontrollably.

Seulgi, on the other hand –  

“I **_DON’T_** **_GOT_** it!” The way in which she yelps out in panic and trips on the slippery surface reminds Nam-Joon of a newborn fawn struggling to keep still and afloat for the first time. He _would_ save her if he could, but really, she’s trapped herself in the middle of the rink amongst the swirls of skilled skaters, and he is in no way capable of breaking her fall.

Seulgi braces herself for the fresh surge of pain, closing her eyes shut, but never feels it come. Opening her eyes warily, Jimin’s handsome face is the first thing she sees.

“Are you okay?”

She clings onto his jacket for support, whimpering pitifully so, “I can’t do this. Also, I’m very, _very_ sorry if I take you down with me. I’m a little heavier than I look –”   

“You won’t,” Jimin encourages gently, prying her fingers off his coat. While Seulgi fears that he’ll abandon her once again, he takes her panicky hands in his gloved ones firmly.  “Trust me, okay? Even if you fall,” He chuckles. “My tummy will be here to cushion you!” 

_(Somewhere off in the distance, Nam-Joon's too busy filming the scenario playing out before him.)_

Interlacing his hands between her own fingers, he says softly, “Come with me.”

Seulgi, while reluctant, eventually gives in to his patient prodding. She’s certain that she’s occupied much of his time, yet he doesn’t seem bothered by it. She appreciates the fact that Jimin never deserts her during her time of vulnerability, guiding her in baby steps. He could’ve easily taken the opportunity to skate laps upon laps around her, showcasing his versatile skill set to the world, but doesn’t.          

And it soon comes to her attention once they reach the other end of the rink that there’s an alternative reason as to why both their faces are beet red.  She’s improved vastly in the past half hour that he’s been teaching her the proper way to skate, and while he tells her that she’s ready to go about on her own, she wonders if she misheard the certain unwillingness in his voice when he says it.

“C-can I, um – “

Removing one of his gloves, Jimin touches her forehead, and then her cheek with concern. If she wasn’t dry-heaving before, well, she certainly was now. “You’re _still_ cold?”

“Forget the cold,” Nam-Joon's teasing smirk emerges from behind his face mask, and a surprised Seulgi nearly collapses onto the cold ground once again – only to be caught in Jimin’s strong arms. “She just wants you to keep teaching her. Oh, wow, and look at that!” He nods at their entwined hands, chuckling. “A step forward, don’t you think?”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Y-yeah! We’re just holding hands – “

“...’Cause, um, cause he’s a nice person!”

“Debate it all you want, but I would never clutch onto a friend like that _just_ for the sake of being kind.” Waving off Jimin’s spluttering, Nam-Joon laughs, “I rest my case. Oh, and Chim, I’m off to get my third hot chocolate.”

He doesn’t go back onto the ice once he gets his beverage. Instead, he watches from the bleachers, thoroughly entertained, as they resume their lessons, taking dozens upon dozens of pictures and wasting his data to send the incriminating evidence of Seulmin to their Facebook group chat.

 _Jeon Jung-Kook_  
_FORGIVE ME, BUT I CAN’T HELP IT, HYUNG. THEY’RE SO CUTE UWU_  
  
_Jung Ho-Seok_  
_BABY CHIM IS GROWING UP. CAN I COME NEXT TIME?_

 _Min Yoongi_  
_I really want to shed a tear._

 _Kim Seokjin_  
_...Sarcasm at its finest?_

 _Min Yoongi_  
_No bullshit. Fuck, I **really** did shed a tear._

* * *

  _(Seul..Min?)_

Five months. Five months is a lot of time for some people. Most would’ve shed the Freshman 15 by now. Twenty or so novels could’ve been read. Numerous hours of video games (In Jung-Kook and Tae-Hyung's case, Overwatch) could’ve been played.

But on rare occasions, nothing gets accomplished. Case in point:  It’s been five months with no progress. Nam-Joon _truly_ believed the last outing would’ve worked and that he would finally be able to clear up the junk sitting in his phone storage, but alas, sitting in front of him was a deflated, depressed and miserable Seulgi:  All adjectives that Nam-Joon would’ve never used to describe her.

Excruciatingly distressful, to say the least, and his heart simply wasn’t in the mood for Calculus when a pretty girl was frowning right in front of him.

(Okay, but mostly because one of her rather flirtatious classmates decided to slide in smoothly after he walked into the bookstore coffee shop and asked rudely if Nam-Joon wasn’t giving her the attention she deserved. Fuck that guy.)

“We aren’t going to happen, are we?”

“I’m very sorry, Seulgi,” Nam-Joon apologies, removing his glasses precariously to rub the sleepiness away. “But as I’m sure you realized over the course of your some with him, Jimin’s kind of stupid.” He pauses for a moment, but then continues with no remorse, “But so are you!”

Appalled, Seulgi’s sadness transforms into seething anger when she sends him a threatening glare. “ ** _What_**?!”

“Look, Ddeulgi,” He begins, unconsciously edging closer and closer towards the girl sitting across from him. “I don’t know why you can’t drill it into your head or, oh, I don’t know, see the signs that he’s interested? He’s as subtle as a sledgehammer, for crying out loud. You guys are such fools, I can’t _stand_ it.”

Seulgi desperately wants to argue back that she’s not. That at the very least, she’s a tad bit smarter than him. More sharp-eyed and observant. That at the very least, she took initiative not once, but several times.  

_(Who is she even kidding? She’s in denial)._

“Disagree with me all you want, but I can literally see the corks in your brain whirring about trying to find a moment where you outsmarted Jimin.” Folding his hands together under his chin, he smirks teasingly, “And you simply can’t.”

_(And he fucking knows it)._

_“_ Joon, I’m going to **die** a virgin!”

“A little too loud, don’t you think?!” Nam-Joon sighs, palming his forehead. “You’re going to die anything but, but I must admit,” He begins typing rapidly on his phone before flipping it down onto the table. “Desperate times call for rather desperate measures.”

Seulgi’s head snap up at him quickly once the words leave his mouth, and Nam-Joon swiftly clarifies, “If Jimin refuses to do anything about his feelings, then I’m just going to have to _force_ them out of him for you.” The mischievous glint in his eyes send her internal alarm ringing, but she doesn’t let it faze her.

Instead, she says, “What do you – ”

His voice is gentle. “Do I have your consent?”

Consent. What exactly did consent have to do with this? Her gaze drifts from his rather intense stare, to the slight slant of his nose and then, to his parted lips.

 _Oh._  

She’s been out of practice for a little while, and never had it ever crossed her mind to kiss somebody else other than the person that she liked. But if Nam-Joon was certain that this would put an end to everyone’s misery, then, why the hell not?

“Do what you have to.”

“Great,” He says, stretching his back and cracking his knuckles. Seulgi resists the temptation to ask whether such actions were necessary. “Prepare yourself, aight? My ex-girlfriends have said that I don’t kiss _that_ well, but this will have to do. I promise you it won’t hurt, but uh, you better close your eyes.”

Seulgi doesn’t want to admit.

Really, really would not like to.

But she must concede when she feels slight pressure against her lips, that Nam-Joon’s exes were very, _very_ wrong.  He tastes of the drunken caramel macchiato to his left, leaving her head woozy and _somehow_ yearning for a bit more, and so, she slowly returns his gentle kiss. Whoever Nam-Joon ends up dating, she’ll be a very fortunate woman, indeed.

“ _YAH_! _HYUNG_! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

If he manages to survive the tiny ball of wrath that is Park Jimin.

All too soon, the older man pulls away and Seulgi has a hand clamped over her mouth, turning her head from the heartbroken Jimin to the nonchalant Nam-Joon. Fortunately, the café isn’t full of people aside from the two baristas and the table of hooded first-years on the far right, gapping at the fight that was about to ensue.

“You didn’t like that, did you?” Nam-Joon clips, wiping his gloss-coated lips with the back of his sleeve.

Jimin attempts to fight back, but no sound emerges from the base of his throat.

“Exactly,” He continues, standing up and walking towards his friend. “And that’s precisely what will happen if you keep lollygagging with your feelings. You like Seulgi, and Seulgi likes you, too. We’ve been waiting for you two to get together, but seriously, y’all just _never fail_ to astound me with your stupidity. Stop playing around with this _some_!”

Forcefully, he pushes a stationary and frozen Jimin towards the table, stumbling clumsily towards the wide-eyed Seulgi.

“I’m leaving!” Nam-Joon declares, snapping both back to reality. Throwing his laptop and assignments into his book bag before turning towards the door huffily, he says, “And I hope, with me gone, you two can get your shit together!”  

* * *

  _(Seulmin)_

Not even twenty-four hours later after what Yoongi calls the Kiss of Death, Nam-Joon's phone startles him awake at six thirty in the morning on a Saturday.

Under normal circumstances, he would’ve murdered the very person whom had to wake him from his slumber, but he was having a nightmare where a ginormous Jimin was chasing him down a giant beanstalk with a knife in his hand. If that wasn’t a premonition for something terrible to happen, he didn’t know what.    

Or, so he thought. He unlocks his phone screen with a swipe to log onto Facebook to glance at the three notifications, and genuine surprise overcomes his body, only to be replaced with contentment.

First, Jimin and Seulgi are officially in a relationship (According to Facebook, anyway).

Second, there were many likes and comments on the status update, and while Nam-Joon has half the heart to read through them, he’s certain that most had the words, ‘About time!’ and ‘Finally!’ all over it.

Third, no surprise, was a private message.

 _Park Jimin_  
_I know you meant well by forcing that confession out of me, hyung, but please. Don’t you dare kiss her again. I really, really mean it._

Scoffing, Nam-Joon types one more sentence before tossing and turning into a settling sleep.

 _Kim Nam-Joon_  
_You got it._

So, of course, he won’t.

Nam-Joon isn’t going to deny the fact that there are certain parts of playing third wheel that he’s going to miss, like Seulgi’s FBI-level analyses on male texting behaviour and Jimin’s embarrassing stutters whenever she stood a little too close.

But as he looks on from afar from the coffee shop counter and manages to exchange a satisfactory grin with Jimin the following Monday, whom had his head resting on Seulgi’s slender shoulder, he realizes this. 

There are many reasons why he stays half-full.

And Seulmin was one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> 22 pages. Even I'm astounded. But it's Seulmin, so I'm not complainin' ;D!


End file.
